La Vida Loca
by Swing Girl At Heart
Summary: Sue had always suspected that Santana wasn't quite human. Will, however, never saw it coming. Expect the Unexpected.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So, this is part of the _Expect The Unexpected_ series I'm working on, which is, frankly, exactly what it sounds like. As part of my everlasting quest to defy any and all possible cliches, something completely unfathomable occurs with one member of the Glee club in each fic of the series. The goal? To have each character (even Matt and Mike, poor underfed pups) so far out of their league, but still remain in character. This is installment number three, but none of them are connected plot-wise, so there aren't any prequels you have to read for any of them. Some will be tragic, some scary, some mysterious, some humorous. Enough jabber - please enjoy!

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La Vida Loca

_Journal, let me be perfectly clear: Sue Sylvester is_ never _surprised by her Cheerios. Usually I'm far too busy drilling routines into their puny heads along with the fact that they will never, no matter how hard their pathetic attempts may be, be a winner quite like me to even pay attention to them beyond that. But somehow, a certain Sylvester-bred Latina managed to catch me off guard yesterday._

_I've always suspected that Santana wasn't entirely human (something I was convinced that I'd instilled in her, and consequently something I was proud of), but I wasn't really expecting it to go down like it did. I'll be honest with you, Journal. I'm a little disappointed in myself. Why, you ask? Because I pride myself on knowing all, and yesterday I failed._

_I'd stopped by the auditorium yesterday to make sure that the trip wire I set up for the Glee Club losers, namely one Will Schuester, would function properly and I found Santana feeding on the body of some underclassman who'd been too slow on his feet. Yes, Journal. Feeding. There was blood smeared all over her face and I would have been disgusted by her apparent lack of knowledge of napkins if I hadn't been so proud of her dedicated drive to eliminate the weak._

_Then she did something strange. She_ roared _at me! The indignation, Journal! Not once in my thirty years has anyone ever dared to show me such disrespect! Well, it wasn't exactly a roar – it was closer to a reptilian screech – but the message was the same. So, reptile or not, I set out to put her back in her place._

_As everyone knows, there's only one way to garner favor from Sue Sylvester – to cater to her every whim. Naturally, as Cheerio Coach, I have absolute and total control over Santana, so I decided that in order to redeem herself, she had to put her true self to my use._

_Will Schuester isn't going to survive the week._

_Victory will finally be mine.

* * *

_

It was Friday afternoon and Glee practice had just ended – Will was busy packing up his various papers as the Gleeks slowly filed out of the choir room towards their lockers or the parking lot. As he shoved the last stack of sheet music into his briefcase, he found that only Santana remained. Which was weird. Will knew that Santana did enjoy being in the club, but she would rather die than show it, and so made every effort to keep up appearances, which usually meant being one of the first ones out of the room once practice was over. Briefly, he wondered if she was upset about something and needed someone to talk to, but the thought quickly vanished when he observed that she didn't look unhappy in the least.

"Something you need?" he prompted, feeling uneasy for some reason.

She approached the piano, a smile stretching across her face. Will didn't know why, but this particular grin sent a rapid shiver down his spine. He raised his eyebrows in question.

"Message from Coach Sylvester," she stated flatly.

Will was about to tell her to hurry up and tell him what it was – because honestly, he was getting kinda creeped out by the way Santana was acting – when her eyes rolled back in her skull, exposing the underside of her eyeballs. Will would have been startled enough by the gesture had they just been white, but no – they were green and gold and black, with vertical pupils slitting them down the center. He jumped back as she stepped forward.

"Santana, what are you doing?"

She came closer, making him back up, and she grinned wider, revealing teeth that had turned silver and curved and sharp as knives.

Will stepped backwards until he ran into the shelves behind the piano, his eyes wide and wary of this…thing that Santana was turning into. He had _no fucking clue_ what was going on with her, but he knew for sure that he wanted to be _nowhere_ near her at that moment. She was scary enough as a regular human.

He yelped and jumped out of the way when she launched into the air, bounding across the surface of the piano and lunging at him, screeching like a goddamn _hawk_. She smashed into the shelves, books and reams of sheet music toppling to the floor when she did, but was back on her feet with a speed that was definitely _not_ natural. As she stalked toward him on all fours (and Will was pretty sure that the human body wasn't supposed to bend quite that way), he grabbed the nearest object to defend himself – a music stand. He figured that teachers should be allowed to hit their students if it was self defense. He hoped, anyways. Because as much as he was in favor of establishing healthy, friendly relationships with all his kids, he had a feeling that this one had gone sour.

Santana let out another screech and leaped at him again, her jaw opening far wider than it should be able to. Will's reflexes finally kicked in and he swung the music stand at her, but she deftly maneuvered to the side and he missed by a good three feet as she landed gracefully behind him, once again on all fours. This time, Will turned and swung the stand at her again before she had a chance to attack. She snarled and jumped away from him, landing on the wall, her digits easily gripping the smooth surface. Rapidly weaving back and forth like a centipede, she scuttled up the wall and across the ceiling until she was directly above him. Twisting her head around as if her neck were made of rubber, she screeched again and dropped.

Will was suddenly pinned to the ground, his feeble substitute for a weapon clanging across the linoleum so that it was lying a maddeningly few inches out of his reach. But Santana had his arms locked in place and she was _way_ too close for comfort. He was able to see every tiny fleck in her abnormal, reptilian eyes, and he tried to ignore the fact that her breath smelled faintly of raw meat. A low growl rumbled deep in her throat, her teeth bared and her lips curled, and Will realized she was a second away from ripping his head off. Quickly, he slammed his knee upwards and into her abdomen, throwing her off guard so that he could get his hands free. With both hands and feet, he shoved her as hard as he could, sending her flying across the room almost to the risers.

As Will scrambled to regain his grip on the music stand, Santana leaped up once again, this time jumping directly onto the ceiling, crawling toward him fast. When she lunged for him in full attack mode, he swung the music stand up at her, his eyes squeezing shut reflexively when he felt it connect.

_Crunch._

_Rip._

_Thud._

Silence.

Slowly, Will opened his eyes, letting the music stand clang to the floor when he saw Santana lying sprawled face down on the linoleum. "Oh, no," he muttered, kneeling by her side and gently turning her over. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry—"

His words were cut off when he saw with horror that his defensive strike had caught her across the face, and a good chunk of flesh about half an inch thick had been torn away from her cheek and was hanging limply to the side, exposing what looked like greenish, pebbly scales beneath it. "Holy—" He tried not to vomit when he realized she wasn't bleeding.

A clatter behind him broke Will out of his shocked stupor – the door had opened, and whoever had come in had stopped short.

"What. The. Fuck."

Will whipped around. "Oh, sh - Puck! This – this isn't what it looks like!"

Puck's eyes were _huge_, staring at Santana's body, which was angled in a way so that he could only see the missing chunk of muscle on the side of her face, unable to see the reptilian skin beneath it from where he stood. His mouth was hanging open.

"Are you sure, Mr. Schue? 'Cause it kinda looks like you just beat up the Head Cheerio."

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**A/N: Please leave a review and tell me what you think of it. Santana was loosely based off the aliens from V, in case anyone is wondering. I WILL be adding at least one more chapter to it. If you enjoyed it, add me to Author Alert to be notified when the other installments in the series are posted. So far, only Brittany's, Puck's, and Kurt's are up - check them out, they're titled Tus Spiritus Sancti, Sun Gone Lost, and Take Me Away, respectively.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I know that no amount of apologies will account for the unbelievably long gap in updating here. My muse was completely sidetracked and focused on other EtU installments (which you should all read, btw). But now I'm here and I am CHAINING Rube to the desk until he gives me enough inspiration to finish this thing.**

**Oh, and I let out a little fangirly scream at the beginning of 'Duets' when Santana said "I'm like a lizard. I need something warm beneath me or I can't digest my food."**

**I totally called it. Boo-yah.**

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_La Vida Loca_

"Holy fuck, _why_ would you do that?" Puck cried, his fists curling by his sides. "I don't give a shit that you're a teacher or whatever – you're going _down._ You _don't hit chicks._"

Will held up his hands, his eyes wide. Puck may have been only seventeen, but he was bigger than Will and could probably easily beat the crap out of him. "Puck, listen to me," he pleaded. "This is _not_ what it looks like, I promise! Santana _attacked_ me!"

"I'm not buying the victim game, Schuester," Puck snarled, his lip curling back.

"Puck, please," Will said, trying to keep his voice level. He now understood why Puck was at the top of the McKinley social pyramid – the kid was _terrifying_. "Just – just _look_." He gestured desperately to Santana's sprawled form.

Unfortunately for Will, before Puck could edge forward and see the scales exposed on Santana's cheek, she groaned and began to stir. Will jumped and took several steps back, picking up the music stand again. "Stay back," he said to Puck, keeping his eyes on the reptilian cheerleader.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Schue?" Puck snapped, striding around Will and heading straight for Santana.

"No, Puck, don't—!" Will tried to protest.

As soon as Puck knelt down and tried to help Santana sit up, her arm lashed out and her fingers clamped around his trachea. Puck could only let out a surprised gulp before his airflow was choked off completely, and his hands flew up and wrapped around Santana's wrist, clawing at her skin and trying to push her away. Will's grip tightened around the music stand and as Santana rose to her feet, pulling Puck up with her, Will swung out and smashed the flat metal surface against the back of her head. She pitched forward, catching herself and somehow not loosening her grasp on Puck's neck in the slightest, and her head did a hundred-eighty degree turn towards Will. Her green-and-gold eyes flaring, she bared her rows of fangs and let out an angry screech. Her other arm snapped up and, like a cat, blackish claws slid out from her fingertips as she slashed at Will's chest. He leaped backwards, Santana's claws missing him by mere inches, and swung the music stand towards her again. Puck was starting to turn blue.

This time, the metal caught her by the collarbone, and she yelped, sidestepping Will and dragging Puck over a few feet. Quickly, Will lifted the stand over his head and brought it down hard on her outstretched arm. She released an unearthly howl as her grip on Puck's neck was broken, and he collapsed on the floor, coughing and wheezing.

Leaving Puck on the ground, Santana snarled and lunged for Will, back in full attack mode with all ten claws unsheathed. Will's reflexes kicked in and he slammed the crossbar of the stand into her chest, sending her flying backwards into the wall. Before she could leap back onto her feet, Will reached down and grabbed Puck by the arm, tugging the boy to his feet and towards the door.

Santana was fast, though, and she jumped onto the ceiling, darting across it and dropping down between them and the door, a low growl rumbling through her teeth. Will fought the urge to vomit as he noticed a drop of saliva sliding down one of her fangs.

"Nowhere to go," she sneered.

Will's mind scrambled for a response, but it was frozen in fight-or-flight mode. And right now, he was pretty bent on flight.

"I was only supposed to kill you," she said cheerily, "but I'm hungry anyways. And Puckerman makes a better steak."

"Jesus Christ," Puck breathed, still wheezing.

"Santana, please—" Will started.

She let out an exaggerated sigh, crossing her arms. Her claws caught slightly on her uniform. "I really hate it when my food gets talkative."

In the blink of an eye, Puck's fist whipped up and clocked Santana across the jaw. Will flinched, startled by Puck's sudden action, and Santana grunted in surprise. The punch hadn't done much in the injury field, but it had gained Puck and Will a few seconds to sidestep around her and run out the door. Will locked it behind them as Puck leaned against the lockers, trying to catch his breath.

"Jesus…fucking…Christ…"

Will nodded in agreement, his hands shaking. He'd dropped the music stand on their way out.

"What the _hell_ is going on?" Puck said in bewilderment.

"I have absolutely no idea," Will admitted, running his hands over his eyes in a subconscious attempt to erase the mental picture of Santana's fangs. They both jumped and stepped away from the door as they heard Santana screech in frustration inside. Suddenly, there was a sharp crash as something made of glass was broken.

Puck frowned, his eyes still wide. "What the hell was that?"

"I don't know," Will replied. He leaned towards the door, peering in the narrow window.

Santana was nowhere to be seen.

"Shit," he swore under his breath. "Where is she?"

Puck's head snapped up. "What?"

"I-I-I don't see her," Will said, scanning as much of the choir room as he could see. Then, he saw that one of the small windows above the risers had been smashed, only a few jagged shards left in the frame. "Oh, _shit_…" he said again. "She got out."

"Shit," Puck echoed. "Shit. Fuck. _Shit._"

"Okay, okay, just…just calm down, we can figure this out—"

"Figure nothing, Mr. Schue!" Puck cut him off. "We almost got _killed!_"

"Puck? Shut. Up."

Puck's jaw snapped shut, caught off-guard by his teacher's sudden order.

Will took a long, steadying breath, forcing the gears in his head to spin. "We just need to think," he said. "Where would be the first place Santana would think we'd hide?"

"Um… I dunno, the auditorium?"

"Right, so… where'd be the last place?"

"Sylvester's office."

Will's eyes lit up. "You're right."

* * *

_Ah, Journal, what pleasure it gives me to say that as I write this, Santana is tearing Will Schuester limb from limb. My only wish? That I could be there to see it. However, I'm not willing to risk getting Schuester's brain matter all over my tracksuit – the blue is my favorite, and brain is __so__ difficult to remove from polyester._

_No, I shall be perfectly content to remain witness to the grisly aftermath of Santana's attack. And with Schuester gone, the Glee club will disintegrate, and my full budget will __finally__ be restored. Oh, it's a dream come true, Journal!_

_And once I—_

"Quick, hide!"

The door to Sue's office slammed open and shut, and suddenly there were two more people wasting her air. "What is this?" she demanded, yanking her glasses off in dismay.

"Sorry, Sue," Will breathed offhandedly, peering out the window. Mohawk pulled the shades closed.

"What the hell is this?" Sue repeated. "Schuester, you are supposed to be a reeking mound of entrails right now! _God_, I have to do _everything _myself!"

Will did a double-take. "Wait, what?"

"I should have known Santana wouldn't be able to take you down," Sue continued to rant. "You're like a weed that just keeps coming back."

"Wait…_you_ sent Santana after me?"

"That just ain't right," Mohawk said.

"No, you know what 'ain't right', Puckerman?" Sue shot back. "The fact that your little Broadway-wannabe clique is like a festering, moldy parasite that is sucking away my budget!"

"Sue, you had Santana try to _kill_ me over a pair of _confetti cannons_?" he cried. Now, he was just pissed off. "You've gone pretty low before, but that is just plain immature! What are you, sixteen?"

"Hey!" Mohawk complained.

"I'll have you know that my Cheerios deserve every dollar they're given!" Sue argued. "You know why? Because they bring in _money_ to the school, William! People write checks! Not for the debate team, not for the chess club, not for the black student union, and certainly not for your Glee club."

"Uh…guys?" Mohawk said.

Will's lip curled. "You have spent every waking minute trying to sabotage the Glee kids and any relationship I might have just because we siphoned off some of your budget. I can deal with those things because it's just childish bullying that shows that you never really left high school, which in itself is just sad."

"Guys?" Mohawk repeated.

Schuester was on a roll, his voice rising. "But when this thing turns _violent_, I have every right to call the cops! And that is _exactly_ what I'm going to do!"

"GUYS!"

"WHAT?" Sue and Will yelled in unison.

They both stopped short, however, when they saw that on the other side of the window, Santana was staring at them through the blinds, with a wide, hungry grin stretching across her face.


	3. Chapter 3

_La Vida Loca_

The next few seconds seemed to drag across the floor as Will, Puck, and Sue all remained stock-still, afraid that if they even breathed or blinked, Santana would punch through the window, claws first. Well, Sue just scowled.

"Sue," Will whispered. "Is there another way out of here?"

"Yes, William, you can use the door like a normal human being," Sue said at normal volume, making both Will and Puck jump.

"Dude, she'll _kill_ us!" Puck hissed. "The window's big enough for us, Mr. Schue, let's _go_."

Will took a hesitant step backwards towards the window, letting out a yelp as Santana leaped at them from behind the glass. But rather than a crash and splintering of glass, the window didn't give way and Santana let out a howl at the resounding _crack_ of her skull against the glass.

"Why didn't that break?" Puck asked, distracted from their escape plan.

"I had it replaced with bullet-proof glass years ago," Sue said. "Good thing, too, otherwise Santana would owe me for a new pane."

Will flinched as Santana abandoned the window and the office door began to shudder in its frame as they heard her massive claws beginning to rip away pieces of the wood.

"Damn it, now she's going to owe me for a new door."

Will spun on his heel and knocked a few of Sue's trophies away from the other window, ignoring her loud protests, and tried to push the pane up. "Sue, why is this locked?" he cried, growing desperate as Santana let out a frustrated shriek, the door splintering.

"You don't expect me to leave it open, do you, William? Otherwise, this place could be swarming with SWAT members at any time."

"_Where's the key?_"

Another alien shriek from behind the door as it rattled with every blow.

Sue reached into the top drawer of her desk and tossed Will the key in question, commenting dryly that the only reason she was giving it to him was that she didn't want their intestines staining her carpet.

With a shaking hand, Will managed to slide the key into the padlocked bolt at the bottom of the window pane and yank open the lock. He pushed the pane upwards until there was enough room to slide through, then waved Puck over and helped him jump up and somersault onto the ground outside the building. Will quickly followed suit, his blood pounding in his ears along with a thousand questions. A creature like Santana… whatever she was… would never answer to Sue Sylvester, so why was she really attacking him? Was she just hungry? How had he never noticed that she wasn't…normal before? Why had she waited so long to reveal herself? Where had she come from? Were there others? Was she an alien? _What the hell was going on?_

Will landed clumsily on the ground next to Puck, who pulled himself to his feet with surprising agility and was about to make a run for it. "Wait!" hissed Will, standing up and poking his head back through the open window. "Sue, come with us!"

Sue rolled her eyes and said, "Don't you get it, Will, Santana is _my_ minion! She's not going to attack me."

Will glanced at the door, which was starting to crack on the inside as Santana's claws ripped away large chunks at an alarming pace. "Sue, whatever she is, she doesn't listen to anyone. She's going to rip you to shreds," he said quickly. "Now, come _on_, or you're going to get yourself killed."

There was another angry screech from the other side of the door, and the wood finally gave way, Santana's clawed hand punching through and snaking around the door handle. Sue groaned and muttered something about her office's privacy measures failing completely, totally ignoring Will's terrified expression as the door rattled and then burst open. Santana leaped through with teeth bared and claws flying.

…And went straight for Sue.

Sue let out an indignant yell as blood sprayed the trophy case behind her, and Will and Puck immediately turned and ran faster than either of them had ever run before. Will was suddenly very, _very_ grateful for all those laps he'd run around the school's track over the years he'd been working there. His ears, now super-sensitive with the adrenaline pumping through his brain, picked up the sounds of a snarl behind them, and he looked over his shoulder for a split second. It was long enough to see that Santana had apparently finished with Sue quickly and was now tearing across the grass after them. Will swore under his breath and sped up as Santana leaped onto the wall of the building and scuttled onto the roof, her claws grating along the shingles.

She was catching up, and fast.

_If she kills me, let it be quick,_ flitted through his mind as he and Puck rounded another corner, Santana screeching behind them.

"Shitshitshitshitshit," he heard Puck panting.

He knew that the both of them were losing stamina. They were slowing down, and Santana seemed only to speed up. When did she ever get tired?

As their shoes hit the concrete leading down to the outdoor lunch area, they made a sharp turn and bolted down the stairs towards the school's back entrance. Santana leaped off the roof and skidded on the pavement behind them, her claws scraping against the concrete. She cleared the stairs in only two jumps and was about three inches away from sinking her teeth into Puck's back when they dove through the double metal doors and slammed them shut, a resounding _thunk_ echoing from the other side as Santana collided with it. His arms shaking with adrenaline and exhaustion, Will left Puck to hold the doors closed and yanked open the janitor's closet ten feet down the hallway.

"Hurry up!" Puck yelled as the doors shook each time Santana attempted to punch through them.

Will grabbed a broomstick and ran back, shoving the rod through the door handles. Puck let out a heavy breath, finally standing back and leaning against the wall.

"We have to kill her."

Puck's head snapped up. "What?"

Will paced a couple of steps, running a sweaty hand through his already-ruffled hair. The door gave another grating shudder. "It's the only way," he said quietly. "Either she dies or we do."

Puck looked like he was about to vomit. "Oh – no way, dude," he said, shaking his head. "No _way_. I'm not cut out for this crap. Hell, I'm not even sure if I'm _badass_ any more."

"Look, Puck, we know three things," Will said, counting off on his fingers. "One, Santana is _hell-bent_ on killing us, or eating us, or whatever the hell she's trying to do. Whatever it is, it's not good and it won't end up with us alive. Two, she is _not_ human. _That_ is not human." He gestured pointedly to the door, which was groaning under the strain. "And three, she's already killed Sue. If she can take Coach Sylvester down in only a couple of seconds, then you and I don't stand a chance, unless we're able to gain the upper hand."

Puck swore. "You're right. Crap." There were a few moments of silence, cut through only by the repeated thudding against the doors, then Puck spoke again. "This _sucks_."

"I know."

Will was about to suggest that they see if there was anything in the janitor's closet that they could use as a weapon, but the sharp sound of splintering wood cut him off, and he whipped around to see that the broom handle was only a moment away from splitting in half. His stomach felt like it was trying to climb up through his throat. He was about to tell Puck to run for it, but the broom snapped in two before he could say anything.

The doors fell open, Santana lunged…

…and two explosions roared in their ears.

Santana was caught in the chest and thrown backwards, landing on the concrete outside with an echoing _crack_, a small trickle of thick greenish liquid oozing onto the ground beneath her.

Will and Puck turned around in shock, to see Sue Sylvester standing fifteen feet behind them, blood staining her pink tracksuit dark red over her chest and left shoulder, and a fairly large gun clutched in her right hand.

"Sue!" Will cried, more relieved than he'd ever thought he'd be to see his (debatably evil) colleague. "You're okay!"

"Not yet, I'm not," she snapped, cradling her injured arm against her side.

"Puck, call 911, will you?" Will asked.

But Sue strode right past them, heading straight for where Santana was hissing as she tried to pull herself up. Sue aimed the nose of the gun directly between Santana's eyes, and pulled the trigger.

Puck turned around and threw up onto the floor after seeing Santana's face _dissolve_ into torn flesh, sticky greenish-black blood, and reptilian scales beneath. Will had to fight the urge to do the same.

"There," Sue said, giving Santana's limp arm a kick. "_Now_ I'm okay."

"Where… where did you get the gun?" Puck coughed, saying the only thing he could manage.

Sue held up her weapon, smiling fondly at it as if it were an old pet. "I've always kept a healthy supply of guns concealed in the ceiling of my office. I don't believe in the zombie apocalypse, but the people who survive are the ones who are prepared. Now, for the love of all that is earthly, _get me an ambulance._"

* * *

Will wiped the sweat from his hands as he rang the doorbell to Santana's house in Lima Heights. The way he figured, even if their daughter had been a flesh-eating creature with dubious origins, the Lopezes had a right to know that she was dead.

However, he was _not_ expecting her mother to answer the door already in tears. "Are you the police? Thank God. She's down in the basement," Mrs. Lopez wept, grabbing his arm and dragging him down the hallway before he had a chance to protest.

Down in the basement, Mrs. Lopez finally let go of his arm, and Will stopped in his tracks, his eyes going wide in the dim light. If he'd only looked at the cellar wall for a second, he might have thought that the large patch of… growth? (he didn't know what else to call it) was only a bad mold problem. But upon closer inspection, it was clearly some sort of web or pod, so thick that he was barely able to make out the fait outline of a body concealed beneath the tightly wound plant-like veins. Up near where (he thought) the body's head was, a few strands of thick black hair were poking out through the tangle.

"Is that…?"

Mrs. Lopez's lip quivered. "I don't know how long she's been there! We-we hardly ever come down here!"

Will took a deep breath to steel his nerves. "I'll get her down," he promised.

"I already tried," said Mrs. Lopez. "It's so hard, I broke a nail!"

Will rummaged in a large tool chest that looked like it hadn't been used in ten years. He pulled out a flathead screwdriver and a large hammer, then closed the chest and pulled it over beneath the pod. Stepping up, Will jabbed the screwdriver into the pod's tendrils where they gripped the wall, attempting to pry them away. The veins flexed but wouldn't break, and after several tries, Will resorted to hacking away at them with the sharp side of the hammer, his mind racing around one thing and one thing only:

If Santana was trapped in her own cellar, then whatever had attacked him at school wasn't her. Maybe she was even alive!

Will chopped faster.

After what felt like an hour of sweaty chopping, hacking, sawing, and chiseling, he was finally able to pull away enough of the veins to see Santana's face. Her eyes were shut and she didn't look like she was in pain, but… she didn't look particularly alive, either. Will felt the side of her neck. "Santana?" he said loudly. "Santana, can you hear me?"

"Is she breathing?" Mrs. Lopez cried behind him.

Will concentrated, and breathed out a huge sigh of relief when he felt a slow, faint pulse beneath her skin. "She's alive," he said, and Mrs. Lopez dissolved into sniffles.

Will went back to work cutting the pod away from his human student, eventually revealing her shoulders, torso, and waist. He recognized her clothes from school the previous week, and was amazed that she'd managed to stay alive for that long. As he started to chisel at the veins gripping her legs, she suddenly thrashed in her bonds, sucking in a huge gulp of air as her eyes flew open, reeling around the room. Mrs. Lopez yelped.

"Santana!" Will said quickly, holding her head gently so that she would focus on him. "Santana, you're okay. You're okay."

"I—" she breathed, her chest heaving. "It attacked me, it— I couldn't—"

Will nodded. "It's okay," he repeated. "You're fine now. The monster's gone."

-END-


End file.
